The Brown Eyed Girl & The Blonde Haired Boy
by Lolita's Shadow
Summary: Norma & Norman Bates move into an old house to start up a bed and breakfast. Norman befriends a mysterious girl, but a blonde haired boy gets in the way of him becoming more than friends with her.
1. Violet

Norman trudged up the stairs to his new bedroom with a cardboard box in his grasp. His mother Norma had decided to move into the Victorian styled house when things weren't quite working out at their old home. She decided to set up a small bed and breakfast in the house. The top floor would belong to Norman and her while the 1st floor and basement would be designed for the guests. She had already hired some workers to redesign the basement into small, cozy suites. Norman faintly smiled. He knew his mother meant well. Things would turn out just fine. He stopped outside his bedroom door and nudged it open with his elbow. He stopped in his tracks when he found a girl around his age looking aimlessly out the window. Norman took a step forward, making the floorboards creak. The girl whipped around, her long hair falling over her shoulders.

"Oh. Hey," she greeted nonchalantly with a pearly white grin.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" Norman asked, stumbling over his words. The girl licked her lips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She shuffled forward, tilting her hat back.

"I used to live here… But my family and I moved down a block. I just wanted to say goodbye to the house," she explained. Relieved, Norman smiled. He had thought this girl wanted to ransack the house. Or steal something. Or scare him and his mother away. Or—

"I'm Violet," she said, outstretching her hand. Norman set the box down and stumbled forward, awkwardly shaking her hand.

"I'm Norman. Norman Bates," he greeted her with a sheepish grin. Violet's eyes trailed behind the lanky boy for a moment.

"So… Why'd you move into this old dump?" she asked. She turned her back on him and shambled to the bed frame.

"Things weren't working out at home," Norman said with a shrug. "Mother is going to start a bed and breakfast here."

Violet arched her brow. "Oh? I'd love to come and visit once the rooms are set up," she said almost too eagerly. She looked down at her boots then back to Norman.

"I'm always looking for a way out of the house… To get away from the parents. Y'know what I mean?"

Norman widened his eyes and shook his head. "No. I love my mother," he admitted innocently. Violet nodded her head slowly.

"That must be nice," she trailed off, returning her focus to the bed frame.

"This used to be my room," she told him, tracing her fingers around the bedpost. Before Norman could say anything, Violet brushed past him.

"I better go. It's getting late," she said, stopping in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. "It was nice meeting you," she said with a truly genuine smile. Norman nodded, stiffly smiling.

"I hope to see you soon," he mumbled softly. Violet returned the smile and descended down the stairs.


	2. The Blonde Haired Boy

Norman began to brush his teeth in the bathroom. He was wearing perfectly pressed, striped pajamas. He stared at himself in the mirror with his neatly brushed and parted hair. He brushed in circular motions with the water running, washing away the troubling thoughts in his mind. The only vision left in his mind was the girl standing in his bedroom. Violet… She stood in front of him with her honey brown hair that fell perfectly in front of her shoulders-her brown eyes, sorrowful and sweet, staring into his. Norman smiled while the toothpaste in his mouth began to pool with the saliva. He leaned forward, spitting the foam into the sink and watched until it disappeared into the drain. He angled his head to the sip and took a sip of the cool water. He returned to his upright position. Before he could even blink, a hand tugged at his shoulder. His eyes widened as he saw an ominous figure standing in back of him. It was a boy… The same age as him and Violet. The boy had blonde curls that fell just above his eyes. His eyes were dark and menacing. His mouth was twisted into a disgusted frown. Norman's heart began to race and he opened his lips to let a scream escape his throat. The only thing that came out was the spray of water that sprinkled onto the mirror. The boy whipped him around, pressing him against the wall. He wrapped his fingers around his throat as Norman choked for air.

"I know what you're up to," he hissed, tightening his grasp. Norman fought back, trying to scratch and pry the fingers from his neck, but it was no use.

"Don't you go near Violet again. Don't you get any funny ideas. Do you understand?"

Norman choked, his eyes beginning to roll back. The angered figure shook him roughly.

"Huh? Do you?!" he snapped. Norman nodded, struggling to let out another breath.

"Violet is _mine_," he declared with an eerie edge to his voice. Norman watched him. The blonde haired boy's mouth was locked into a snarl, but his eyes were weary and sad. The boy let go, pushing Norman into the closed door. Without another word, the boy got up and left, nudging Norman out of the way. On the ground, he struggled for breath. He could still feel the fingertips that pounded into his neck. He choked and sputtered, crawling to the hall. Norman passed a mirror, seeing the terrible red marks that dotted his flesh. He clambered to his feet, sprinting down the stairs. His mother was in danger. He was in danger.

"Mother!" he howled, making a detour to the living room. He found his mother sitting on the couch with a mug of steaming coffee in between her hands.

"Norman, what is it?" she asked with a concerned expression. She rose to her feet as Norman took her by her hands.

"This boy came into my room and strangled me. We need to call the police. We need to go!" he wailed, starting to drag her to the front door.

"Norman, wait!"

She grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him around so he would face her.

"We've been over this before. Sometimes, Norman, you see and hear things that aren't there," she calmly reminded him.

"Mother, it was real this time. See?" He tried showing her by pulling down the collar of his shirt. Norma knitted her brow together.

"There's nothing there, Norman…"

"Mother, it was real. He was in the bathroom," he pleaded, his eyes welling up with salty tears.

"How could he have gotten in? All the doors are locked," she reassured him. Norma sighed and gently pressed her hand onto his shoulder, guiding him back up the stairs.

"You just need some sleep."


	3. Chapter 3

Norman began to sweep the front hall. Three guests had already come and gone through the inn, but Norman was anxiously waiting for Violet. He wanted to just catch a glimpse of her again—her glossy hair, her doe eyes… She was perfect. His stomach dropped just thinking about the blonde haired boy that had threatened him a few months back. He was half convinced that the boy was a hallucination, but there was something inside of him, warning him that the menacing boy was real. Norman's thoughts were interrupted by a rapping at the door. Norma Bates came into the hall, wiping her hands on her Capri pants.

"Well, don't just stand there, Norman," she said, but she was already at the door, swinging it open. Norman turned, tightening his grip around the broomstick. His eyes gape at the couple that stood before him. Violet stood next to the blonde haired teenager. She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt that looked like it belonged to the boy.

"Hi," he greeted cheerfully, snaking an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Come on in," Norman chirped, ushering them in. The corner of Violet's lips tugged into a half smile. She stared directly at Norman but he quickly turned his back on them, sweeping some dust into the corner. Mrs. Bates plucked a notebook from the shelf and scribbled something down on the paper.

"You can have room 5. It's the last door on the left in the basement. Name, please?"

"Tate. Tate Langdon. That's L-A-N-G-D-O-N," he informed her, lightly tapping on the last name column on the paper.

"How many days are you planning on staying?" she asked. Norman could barely breathe. He wasn't just seeing things. The boy was real. He shrugged nonchalantly, pulling the petite girl closer to him.

"We're playing it by ear," he said. Norma smiled and nodded to the basement staircase.

"This way, Mr. Langdon," she said with a friendly beam. Tate bumped his shoulder into Norman's as Violet followed the innkeeper down the stairs.

"Sorry. I didn't get your name," Tate said, lowering his voice. He grinned arrogantly at Norman, but his eyes were sharp and filled with hate. Norman kept on sweeping, ignoring him sheepishly.

"Don't talk much, huh? Guess that's for the best," Tate chuckled. He began to walk down the staircase, flashing one last sadistic glare over his shoulder. Violet looked around the room, taking in the new surroundings. Once Tate entered, Norma closed the door behind them.

"This is where the tub used to be," Violet murmured, tracing her fingers along the flowery wallpaper. Tate loomed over his girl, taking her rosy cheeks in his hands. He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her red lips. He smoothed down her hair and grinned from ear to ear. Violet returned the smile, staring into the dark eyes of her beloved.

Sighing contently, Tate murmured, "I want you to stay away from that boy."

Violet's smile fell. She furrowed her brow and replied , "I've already met Norman. He's really nice. He wouldn't even hurt a fly-''

"He was giving you a weird look," Tate calmly cut her off, keeping the palms of his hands resting on the sides of her neck. Violet's arms fell to her side. She took a few steps back from Tate, shaking her head.

"I can't make one friend with you being a control freak like that," she hissed, her forming into a tight frown.

Tate's heart raced as he began to shuffle forward. He hated seeing her like this.

_You've messed up again, Tate,_ he thought bitterly. _Now fix this._

He gingerly took hold of her hand, bringing it close to his face, but she swiftly yanked it away.

"I just want to make_ friends_. Can you stopping being jealous for, like, two seconds?" she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration. Tate drew in a nervous breath.

"You're right… I'm sorry," he apologized, following her to the vanity mirror. Violet glared at herself, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, his lips brushing across her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Violet sighed, defeated. She could never stay mad at him for long. He was the only person she had or would ever have. By now, Violet knew Tate and his irrational worries of someone taking away his precious girl.

"Of course I do," she replied in a hushed tone. Tate broke into a grin. He took her delicate hand and spun her around to face him. He again brought her hand to his lips, softly kissing her knuckles.

"You know I would do anything for you," Tate reminded her as always "I would never leave you or hurt you in any kind of way, Vi. I love you."

Violet nodded knowingly. Tate always kept his word.

"I'd kill for you. You know that, right?" he went on, his dark eyes widening. Violet licked her lips and looked up at him. He still sent shivers down her back. The way he talked about killing still scared her.

"You know what you can do for me right now?" she asked with a smirk.

"What?" he eagerly replied with a beam bright enough to light up the entire room.

"You can snag me a pack of cigarettes," she answered with a playful grin.

"Anything for you," Tate said. He quickly stole a kiss then sauntered out of the room, leaving Violet to her own thoughts.


End file.
